In The Moonlight
by theyang
Summary: Second chances are hard to come by, but when there is nothing but regret left and there's nothing more to lose, he might finally make the right choice. Death, life, existence. It doesn't worth anything without a meaning, maybe death is redemption. And maybe there are still things for him to do.
1. Prologue

_Regret_.

He could feel it burning through his veins, making his skin crawl and his heart to pump harder in his chest. It was self-consuming and yet, as he tried, he had known he had no one else to blame for it had been his own bad choices that had led him to this moment.

Arrogance, foolishness, those had been the qualities that had brought him to failure. It had been inevitable, he always knew that, but he had never bothered to change his ways, and now he had to accept the faith that awaited him.

Now, now he would pay for his mistakes and those made by his parents, the poetic justice of sorts. The son was paying for his father's sins.

Silver eyes reflected the light of the moon as he stared into the clear night sky, thinking about what was to come. He used to love this, just sitting at the edge of his window and watching the stars, it reminded him a time when he was younger, and his mother would tell him the stories of each constellation. It reminded him of a better time, and the loss of that is perhaps the heaviest regret that he carried with him tonight.

How long would it be before his presence would be requested by the Lord invading his home? How long would it be before his presence would be eradicated from this world?

 _Soon_. He knew that not even he could be that much of a fool to think that he stood a chance at survival.

It was in times like these that he thought about his life or existence, seventeen years wasted on pettiness, jealousy, and hatred.

And there it was again, the regret.

Draco Malfoy stared at his hands, slowly unraveling the sleeve of his shirt, black ink contrast to his pale skin. He had been so proud when it had been branded into his forearm, but all that been left now was the terror and the fear.

 _Fear_.

The only emotion that was greater than regret was fear. He didn't want to die, not like that. He didn't want to be remembered as the kid that had taken more than he could chew, a failed Death Eater - the bad man.

He wanted to change all of that, he wanted another chance, but it was too late now. All the cards had been laid down on the table, and Draco had nothing hiding up his sleeve.

* * *

The room was dimly lit by candles, dark figures sitting around a long table in silence, their eyes watching. Some watched with excitement, others with fear, but a specific pair watched with tears.

"Please, my lord," spoke the woman, her platinum hair like stars in the darkness, "he's only a child if anything it is I who must take the blame for disappointing you," her usually regal voice was shaking, her entire body begging for mercy.

The woman, however, was not begging for herself, but for the figure kneeling on the floor, blood sipping through his once white shirt while his breathing came out in raspy gasps as he attempted to conceal his pain. He had expected the torture, and so had his mother, but neither had expected such a crowd.

Draco did not dare to look up, not even now, his fear greater even in the face of possible death. Possible, Draco knew how likely said possibility was, it was too late for him.

"Please, punish me, my lord," Narcissa Malfoy continued, unable to watch her only son meets his faith.

"Silence," the Dark Lord commanded, forcing the mother to close her mouth as she looked right into his red eyes. "This is a punishment for you as well, for your incompetence and failures," his voice echoed through the room. "Be this an example to those who dare to fail me," his red eyes lingered around each of the occupants of the room. "Fail me, cross me, and you shall face the consequences," and with that, he turned his attention back to Draco.

The boy did not look up, preparing himself for what would come next and wishing it to be over now, he could not take this any longer, the pain or the shame. If this was to be over with then, he just wanted it to be over.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself? If so please, we would all love to hear your _excuses_ for disappointing me, for being unable to carry the tasks given to you," the voice was demanding, but Draco gave him now answer, his teeth grinding against each other. "One can never trust a Malfoy, a coward, an incompetent fool," Draco moved his head away as the Dark Lord spat in his direction. "Better the line would end here."

"Please, please, don't do this," Narcissa called out as the Dark Lord pulled out his wand, standing up from her seat and rushing towards her son, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll do anything," she said.

Slowly, Draco moved to unwrap her arms from around him, slowly and yet fast enough so no Death Eater would step forward. "Mother, don't," he told her, his voice cold and raspy. "This had been my choice, not yours, it is I who failed, not you," he told her, unable to bear the thought of his mother dying for him. "It's alright," he told her.

Narcissa began sobbing, wrapping him in a hug once more and whispering comforting words in his ear. Draco returned her hug this time, holding onto his mother until strong arms removed her from his presence.

"How touching," came the mocking voice of the lord and this time Draco did not shy away from looking up. He was still afraid, but he would welcome death than being forced to follow him. This inhuman creature that had ruined his family, that had destroyed him.

He searched for someone to blame for so long, but the person was right there, a man that made himself to be a god.

Lord Voldemort looked at him with curious eyes, as if finding something new in the silver colored eyes. "Anything you'd like to say?"

"Yes, my lord," he said, forcing himself to stand up on shaky legs. "I'll see you in hell-"

"-Avada Kedavra!"

In a flash of green, the pale body of Draco Malfoy dropped to the ground, empty silver eyes staring up at the ceiling, but there was no fear left in them.

* * *

Harry Potter woke up with a start, sweat clinging into his skin while his breath came out in raspy gasps. Frantic eyes looked around him, for a moment unable to recognize where he was.

"Harry, mate?" came the familiar voice of his best friend, Ron turned around in his bed with a groan, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Harry. "Alright?" he grumbled half asleep, trying to care but at the same time unable to honestly do so at that hour.

The dark haired boy shook his head, moving his hands through his messy hair as his breath slowly went back to normal. "Yeah, I'm alright," he confirmed after a moment, biting on his lower lip as he looked at Ron once more. "But..." he wasn't sure how to say it, it didn't feel real. "But I think Malfoy's dead," he said.

"Malfoy? what?" Ron asked, blinking sleep out of his eyes. "I don't-"

"-I just saw Voldemort kill him," Harry said before Ron could finish. "I just saw Voldemort kill Draco Malfoy."


	2. Chapter 1

"You shouldn't be having those dreams, Harry," Hermoine said, her face showing disgust while Ron shoved another piece of bacon into his mouth. "Ronald, can you please," she told the redhead, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention back to Harry. "Dumbledore wouldn't want you to; you need to block it. I'm sure Professor Lupin would be able to help," she suggested hopefully.

Harry looked at her in disbelief, unsure of how to deal with the situation in front of him. "Have you not heard me, Hermione?" he asked her, slamming his hand against the table. "I told you that Voldemort killed Malfoy and that's what you say?"

"It's not like we actually liked the guy," Ron mentioned, swallowing the food in his mouth. "He probably deserved it or something," he added with a small shrug.

Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked Ron on the back of his head, "what Ron is trying to say is that Malfoy knew what he had signed up for when he became a Death Eater," she explained. "Yes, it's a terrible thing that had happened, but at the end of the day, he would have fought against us, he was the enemy, Harry."

There was a sense in her words, Harry knew that, but at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to take it as lightly as his friends seemed to.

Yes, they had never gotten along with each other and Harry would gladly describe Draco Malfoy as an entitled prat that needed to shut up, but having Malfoy in his life, having this one normal enemy made Harry feel like an ordinary teenager. He shouldn't have dark lords as his nemesis, but that guy in school he couldn't agree on anything with.

"He was our age, Hermione," he said, shaking his head at her. "How can either of you say he deserved it?" Harry truly wanted to know that, they should be better than this behavior.

There was also the fact that in his dream, his vision of Voldemort's actions, he saw a side of Malfoy that he had never seen before. For the first time since the two have met, he saw Draco Malfoy as a person who had a family, he saw him as a human being.

"Harry," Hermione sighed, exchanging a look with Ron before moving closer to the dark haired boy. "I know that it must have been hard to watch, but it had been his choice to put himself in that situation," she tried to reason with her best friend.

"He still didn't deserve it, Hermione," Harry told her, sadness evident in his emerald eyes.

"Yikes, it's somber in here," came a familiar cheerful voice. "Who died?" joked one of the twins, Fred it seemed from the lack of bandage around his face.

"Malfoy," Ron said, food still in his mouth.

"Ronald!" Hermione called while Harry rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

Fred looked at the three in confusion, "wait, Malfoy? As in junior or senior?" he asked, seeming a bit more serious than he had moments before.

Before Harry could answer and attempt to explain, the sound of chatter reached the kitchens as the rest of the Weasley family made their way inside, apparently ready for Breakfast.

"Oh, Darlings, you're up early," said Mrs. Weasley, a bright smile on her face as she quickly moved. "You should have told me, I would have made you something to eat," she said, looking mainly at Harry and Hermione as she said it. Reasonable, considering her youngest son was currently eating.

"It's no worry, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione reassured her with a gentle smile. "We were just talking," explained, not really wanting to get into many details.

"Yes, they were talking about how they've heard that Malfoy died?" Fred said with a raised eyebrow, turning to his brother in hope to get some answer.

"Oh, yeah, junior," Ron said, playing with his fork in the air and yelping when Hermione smacked him across the head once more. "What was that for?" the girl only shook her head at him.

Mrs. Weasley looked between the children, her face no longer bright but sadden. "The poor boy," she said, placing a hand over her heart. "I cannot imagine what his parents must be feeling," she said, her eyes moving between the kids in the room as her heart clenched, she could not bear the thought of losing any of them.

"Serves the git," Ron mumbled, this time receiving glares from his both Hermione and his mother. "What? you said it yourself, Hermione, he would have come after the first chance he got," the redhead said defensively.

Hermione did not answer, but then again, she had already made her opinion on the matter rather clear.

Harry wanted to argue, he wanted to understand how they could look at the death of anyone so lightly but he couldn't because as terrible as reality was, he knew why they were saying this. Draco Malfoy had never been anything but an enemy; he had shown it time and time again. It was war, Mad Eye's death had proven it, there would be casualties, and they couldn't afford to cry for the enemy.

Still, he could not bring himself to forget the image of the Slytherin's body, silver eyes staring, not to see anything ever again.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice cut through his thought, emerald eyes looking up to meet brown ones. "Are you alright?" she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harry sighed and nodded, "I will be," he told her, forcing a small smile to stretch his lips.

 _It was a war and people would die_ ; it was about time Harry accepted it.

* * *

For the entire day, Mrs. Weasley had done her very best to keep everyone occupied, not a difficult task considering the Barrow was getting ready for a wedding. Harry was just about ready to explode if he had to hear another useless argument between Ginny and Fleur.

He loved Ginny, despite having taken quite the step back away from her, but sometimes the redhead was too stubborn for her own good.

It was another thing to keep him busy, although the ache of his muscles from work in the garden was much worse than his growing headache. It was good, in a weird way, every time his dream of the night before came to mind, there was something else that required his assistance, almost as if Mrs. Weasley knew what was happening. He wouldn't be surprised if she did.

She tried to talk about it a little bit, but overall the topic had been kept quiet. Harry shouldn't have even known what happened between the Death Eaters after all and there had been no announcement about the death of Malfoy's heir. They shouldn't yet know it happened.

But they did, Harry did. He saw it happen.

"Harry," came a familiar voice, forcing the green-eyed teen to look up from the dishes he was washing. "Can we talk?"

He couldn't remember the last time Remus Lupin had stopped in the Barrow; perhaps not since the night, they got there. He looked tired, the scars on his face more apparent and there were a couple of new gray streaks in his hair. Still, Harry was happy to see him.

"Of course," answered Harry, drying his hands on his pants and following his former professor. "I understand they told you," he added as they left through the back door, the moonless night surrounding them.

"Molly is very worried about you, Harry," said Remus, his voice soft and yet the worry was easily found in his tone. "So am I, you cannot let _him_ get into your head that way again," he said, but there was the unspoken statement there. The unspoken truth about how when Harry had allowed Voldemort into his head, Sirius had ended up dying because of that.

Harry sighed, moving his fingers through his hair. "I know, but I don't even think that he knew that I could see it," it was no excuse, Harry knew that. "He was too happy to show off Malfoy as an example, Lupin," he said after a moment of quiet. "And then he was so angry; it was suffocating."

Remus looked at him, considering his words. "I just don't want you to think like you need to put your wall down to know what is happening, Harry," he said as he turned around and continued to walk down the dark path. "You need to protect your mind, your emotions from this connection the two of you have," he kept on going, and Harry followed him slowly. "Now more than ever, you need to be safe."

"Safe? What does that even mean now?" asked Harry, obviously frustrated. "So many people are dead, and they keep on dying, Lupin, we need to put an end to it," he knew that for a while now. Harry knew that it was a war and that he needed to do whatever he had to do to stop Voldemort, he was the only one who could do it.

"You can't just storm off without a plan, Harry," Remus said, stopping at the edge of the property line. "You're not alone in this fight, don't act recklessly," there was a warning now, and Harry could almost hear it, how he was still a child that did not understand and perhaps Harry didn't, but it was his fight - his war.

Remus moved closer, placing one of his hands on Harry's shoulder and forcing the teen to meet his eyes. "Promise me, Harry, that you'd be careful," the words had been whispered.

"I promise," said Harry, yet it felt empty and from the look in Remus' eyes, the werewolf knew that it was not a promise to be kept.

* * *

It was cold; it _was just so cold._ He could hardly contain the shiver that went down his spine as he opened his eyes, it was dark too, he couldn't see anything.

He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself down, figure out where he was but as he stretched his arms, he met the confines of the wood around him. Panic grew inside of him as he began moving around the space, trying to figure a way out, trying to figure out what had happened to him,

The wizard continued his fight with himself, unable to calm the rush of emotions that flew through his veins, panic, fear, _anger_. He couldn't even understand the last one, but as he kicked around him, hard enough to break through the wood, there was this anger filling him, passing like ice in his veins and consuming him.

He reached out through the broken wood, _dirt._ He was underground, buried. It made no sense to him.

And it made the anger ever stronger as if all he had to do was find the person that had buried him, the person that had left him to rot underground. He could feel his stomach twist as he thought about it, fingers closing around the wooden instrument that had been buried with him. His wand.

 _Fools_ , they should not have left such a weapon in his possession.

A smirk formed on his pale face and with a crack that could be heard by no one, he disappeared from his grave.

His legs felt numb as he stood within the familiar halls of his home, his body stiff but it was only reasonable, who knew how long they had left him there. He needed to find them, they needed to be punished and that was all he could think about.

Punish them, achieve his revenge.

The manor was quiet, most of its current occupants not present, but he knew that there was someone there. Someone who played a part in everything that had happened to him.

 _Kill them,_ growled a voice inside of him and all he could think about was doing just that.

His feet led him up the stairs as if without knowing, it was clear where his targets rested unaware. Every step he made echoed in the silence but the wizard did not bother hiding up his presence, his wand tight in his hand and heart frozen, he did not fear what they could do to him, not anymore.

 _Kill them_.

He kicked open the door, silver eyes landing on the two men sitting at the table. "Macnair, Blackwood," he said, voice husky from lack of use. "How nice it is to see you again," he said as the two men stood up, their wands up as they looked right at him.

"Who are you?" said Blackwood, he looked on edge as the younger wizard stepped into the room, twirling his wand in his hands.

 _Kill them._

"Such a foolish question, surely, it had not been that long that you cannot recognize me," he said, the smirk not fading from his lips. "You have known me my all life; surely, death hadn't made you forget me."

 _Kill them._

Macnair stood forward, casting a spell without a word but the blonde simply dodged it. "Quit playing games, I buried the body, no one comes back from that," he spat.

"You did?" he asked, suddenly more interested in the gray-haired man. "Thank you for telling me that," he said with a nod, as if satisfied by the new information. "I was looking for you," he added.

 _Kill them._

"I don't know what you're playing at, kid, but you're not gonna walk away from here," Macnair said, a sadistic look in his eyes.

"And who will stop me?" he asked, oddly amused by the situation. He moved before either of the Death Eater could cast another spell, snapping the neck of Blackwood as if his neck was nothing more than a twig before turning to Macnair.

The Death Eater yelled and cast another spell, but the wizard in front of him did not flinch at the green light coming his way. After the spell hit, he kept on walking towards Macnair, shaking his head. "Can't kill the dead," he told him and raised his wand.

 _KILL HIM._

"You must die, you must pay for your sins," he said, and with a flick of his wrist the man in front of him fall to the ground, blood dripping from the wands across his chest.

He turned around at the sound of steps, his wand ready for another attack, his mind filled with the thought of death and revenge. He'd kill all of them; he had to.

"D-Draco?" came a whispering voice, cold eyes leaning on a familiar looking woman and the wizard stumbled backward.

The ice in his veins seemed to have lessened, his mind a bit clearer. "Mother?" he asked, almost confused as he looked around him. What had he just done? How could he even be there right now?

 _Kill_.

The voice growled in his head once more, but Draco could not do that now. He looked around him, suddenly panicked before turning his eyes on his mother once more.

"Draco, is that, is that really you?" Narcissa asked, she tried to come closer, but all the blonde did was to take a step back.

"Don't," he told her, holding his hand up and looking away. He needed to go; it wasn't safe here - he did not wish to harm her. "Forgot that you had seen me, mother, if anyone asks, you do not know what had happened here tonight," he did not dare to look at her again, and with another crack, Draco Malfoy was gone.

/

 **A/N** \- Thank you for taking the time to read my story, it is the first one I sat down to write in a very long time and I'd imagine it shows, hopefully, it would get better as the chapters progress. I promise that in time everything would be explained about what exactly happened to Draco, although feel free to take your guesses for now.

I have the story all planned out, which would hopefully help me to keep updating this story steadily.

Reviews are always appreciated, thank you again for reading.


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